


Serpent of Precious Feather

by Utter_trash420



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Creature Fic, F/M, M/M, Murder Husbands, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Someone Help Will Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29938653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Utter_trash420/pseuds/Utter_trash420
Summary: A Hannigram creature AUWill is a Quetzalcoatl hybrid who craves revenge and Hannibal.It's a Lil cringy but I just need to write a Hannigram AU centered around sweet baby Boi Will and SIMP Hannibal. Was inspired by another fic with a creature Will but I can't find the name.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 18





	Serpent of Precious Feather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Myself](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myself/gifts), [others](https://archiveofourown.org/users/others/gifts).



The young girl clutched the shaking hand tightly, tracing her fingers over the lightly scaled skin. The creature seemed to take comfort in the warmth offered in the small gesture, carefully arranging its clawed hand through the bars of its cell. Both of them were shivering in fear from their cells, the slight sweat that covered their skin seemed to absorb the coldness of the room. 

“I’m Abigail Hobbs. I am a hunter, not prey. I am alive”. The girl felt the weight of her words slip off her tongue, an affirmation that no matter how long they kept her here or how much they tortured her, she still had a name. An identity. A life beyond this facility. The silence hung awkwardly and after a few minutes she gazed once more at the hand that clutched hers like a lifeline. The room was so dark that she could barely see past the wrist, the cage walls making the task more difficult. 

What she could see though was a wrist with the few odd scales and a hand linked in hers. The hand was strange, with fingernails that seemed to end in talons of a sort and she longed to see what the rest of her companion looked like. For the two weeks since she had been captured, the person had made no attempt to speak, only offering their hand and often making a sort of chirping noise when she had spoken wistfully of days spent in the sun. Squatting under the camouflage of bushes, hunting with her father.

“I just wanted to thank you. For your company. I overheard them talking about creature organs being sold on the black market,” she spoke softly, voicing her fears to the empathetic stanger. The grip from the stranger tightened a little, not enough to hurt but enough to be noticeable. She pressed on, determined to warn her companion of what may lie ahead.

“It’s a shame. Creature inheritances are meant to be celebrated, seen as us being worthy of a God’s gift. What is happening here isn’t what… It’s not… Not whatever this is,” Abigail spat the last words out, not surprised when there was no noise from the other’s cell. Bottled anger clawed its way past her throat, unable to stand back as injustices were carried out. She recalled the excitement she had when awoke to sharpened senses and a few speckles of scales around her joints marking her as inheriting traits from a snake. Overwhelmed with joy she noticed the earthy smells that had washed over her, baptising her. It was disgusting that something so sacred was being tainted to receive profit.

A low growl echoed from around her, and she realised with a start that the person besides her was reacting to her anger. She softly whispered words of comfort, tracing over a few scales. The growling was soon cut off and they were once again sitting in silence, hand in hand. She found the silence calming, and was left to reminisce on her life before she had been abducted. Everynow and then her mind wandered as to who the hand could belong to. The hand was humanoid with sharpened claw-like fingers and a few scales of a seemingly dark colour. She assumed he was possibly an eagle or a ground pangolin creature, but those assumptions didn’t sit right with her.

All she knew was that he had been abducted long before her and that the scientists had apparently been involved with a genetic testing experiment. She had heard the last part from a guard’s conversation. The experimentations had been done years ago and had led to the hundreds of deaths of creatures. They had stopped after they realised the experiments were not working and the abductions were gaining recognition from the public and government despite all their carefulness. 

“I don’t know who I am anymore, what they made me.”

The voice was coarse, like the sound of sandstone falling and thunder rumbling. It held a tone of longing, regret, and defeat. Abigail let out a startled cry when she heard it from the otherside of the wall and the hand flexed slightly in uncertainty. She quickly schooled her surprise, forcing it down to let the stranger feel safer to speak. 

“One second, I was walking home from my school.... Baltimore highschool, a weird small place with teachers who screeched like they were part bird…” the tone was wistful, sentences slightly strained, “and then I was here. Stuck behind a cell for years.”

The voice cracked and a loud wail was let out. The sound was a single piercing cry; one made by a mother who lost a child. As clear as the bell of a church or the shot of a hunting rifle. “I can’t… I can’t even remember my name!”

Shouts were heard from upstairs and she jolted in her uncomfortable sitting position, letting go of the hand abruptly and standing up. She watched as a door opened, light streaming in from above the staircase. Shedding the clustered cells at the back with artificial sun. They walked up to Abigail’s cell, white coats flaring behind them as they gazed down at their clipboards.

Dread filled her, rolling in her stomach as they paced through the room and stopped at her cell. Looking at her as they did two weeks ago. With cold and calculating glances. As her cell was opened she began thrashing dangerously. Two large men appeared, a small syringe in their hands. They stunk of death and harsh chemicals. They strode into her cell, ignoring as she tried to lunge for the open door and attempted to slip through. A large hand gripped at her hair roughly, and she felt a flair of pain at the back of her skull. She struggled, refusing to give up without a fight.

A fist met with her stomach and spit flew from her mouth as she involuntarily gasped. A crack and a deep searing pain indicated a broken rib. Abigail’s body fell limp a few minutes after a quick jab was felt in her neck. Her body gave up as she was forced to watch as a man in a coat smiled kindly and crouched beside her, combing stray hairs away from her face. Hisses and bangs could be heard from the cell next door. The stranger, trying to help but unable to escape from the cage. The man tilted his head towards the commotion and let a greasy smile rest on his lips.

“Grab him as well.”

After the words had been spoken, the men entered the cell. Abigail felt words rush up to her mouth but never passed her tongue. Large thuds and unholy screeches followed before a defeated croak. The body was dragged slowly, indicating it’s heaviness. Abigail watched as her neighbour of sorts was pulled out into her vision. A male covered in scars and bruises that ran across his skin. He was attractive, Abigail thought as his face came into view. As the body was pulled further into her vision she found herself unable to compute what she was seeing.

“Impressive isn’t he? It took us five years to create, the tests killed everyone else… everyone else but him.” The man crouched next to her spoke with awe and greed. His words dripped with the need to own. To control. 

The body they pulled from the cell had a smattering of scales around his joints like most reptile creatures. They seemed to be a shiny black until the dull light hit them, then they shone like an oil spill. A few rested around his neck, running up and framing his face. All of this Abigail could understand. It was the golden feathers that ran across his body and was incorporated in his hair, the clawed hands that made his hands look as though they had been dipped in ink, and taloned feet. He was striking, beautiful, unnatural.

Abigail’s eyes met the stormy eyes of the creature. Watching as his hand made the slightest twitch as it longed to hold hers for comfort. She found her vision turning black and yet she had a soft smile on her face. Accepting her fate and content in seeing the identity of her stranger.

She forced her mouth to move, channelling all her power to speak. Desperate to give comfort. To bring strength to the beautiful stranger that had been locked away for years.

“Will. You said you couldn’t remember your name. I thought it suited you.”

The words were slurred yet she could tell from the widening of his eyes he heard her. Will. It was more than just a name, it was their story. A word that described what he gave to her through the simple action of holding out his hand. Mourning when she mourned. So many emotions flickered through his eyes in a single moment before settling on one of determination.

Soon, sleep found them both. They were dragged up the stairs of the facility and placed onto stretchers.

That night, only one of them returned. Feathers coated in blood and bones aching. 

Roughly, Will was shoved into his cell. Loud cries echoing in the room as the scent of Abigail surrounded him and a hand didn’t reach out to his. For hours, he banged his arms against the cage walls. Scratching at his exposed skin and relishing in the light trails of blood that flowed down. It was a gory rebirth, the creation of something more than human or creature. It was the creation of a deity. 

He had been given purpose, a need to avenge Abigail. Abigail and all those that had died by the hands of the people. He imagined the blood coating his arms belonged to the men in white coats. That their intestines lay around him, lungs torn, ribs cracked. He felt his tongue trace over his sharp teeth, longing for the day he would be able to sink then into the necks of the man who had taken Abigail away.

“My name is Will. I am a hunter, not prey. And I am alive.”

**Author's Note:**

> I need more hannigram au's. Hit me up if you know any good fics, unpopular opinion but I'm not a big fan of after fall fics. They remind me too much of what I'm missing out on and make me cry.
> 
> Just hand me those good quality fics if you find any. I'm desperate.


End file.
